


My Love, My Life

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Series: I Lay My Life Before You [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alpha Brian, Alpha Jim, Alpha Paul, Alpha Roger, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Best Friends, Beta John, Beta Mary, Don't copy to another site, I'm back baby, Jim is precious and must be protected, John is Vice President, M/M, Male Friendship, Omega Freddie, Roger is the leader of the Freddie Mercury Protection Squad, Team as Family, We all hate Paul, We have no time for toxic masculinity, deleted and alternate scenes from the original story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-15 05:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17522972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: A collection of deleted/alternate scenes from "I Lay My Life Before You."In which Roger is fierce, Freddie is a fierce diva queen, Brian is everyone's mom, John is a secret sass master, Jim is precious and Paul Prenter is the worst.





	1. Roger: What's The Name of the Game?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, baby.
> 
> So, originally "I Lay My Life Before You" was going to be much longer. It went through a lot of rewrites and as such, stuff got cut. Some things just didn't work anymore- such as various POV characters. Originally it wasn't just Roger and Fred narrating; it was the whole band, Paul, Jim, Mary and even Phoebe got a quick scene. However I struggled to fit it all together the way I wanted and changes were made. Some scenes just didn't work anymore, others seemed to wreck the flow, etc. But me being my usual hoarder self didn't delete it all, I just moved it to another folder.
> 
> So here we are.
> 
> This first scene was originally part of what was going to be a much longer sequence at the beginning of Freddie and Jim's relationship wherein Freddie and Jim are both unsure of what the other wants/expects and Roger is, as usual, leader of The Freddie Protection Squad. After the rest was typed up it just didn't seem to fit anymore. I wasn't happy with it and wanted to move onto Jim and Freddie being husbands and cat dads together and further the plot, so it got cut.

**1980** **  
** **_“What’s the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you? What’s the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do? Tell me please, ‘cause I have to know. I’m a curious child beginning to grow. And you make me talk. And you make me feel. And you make me show what I’m trying to conceal…” -The Name Of The Game,_ ** **ABBA**

 

Roger knew his request to meet would confuse Jim. They’d never hung out alone. At most they were left alone for a few minutes whenever Freddie left the room but actually hanging out? Not yet, not until now.

 

“So, you said you have something we need to talk about?” Jim asked. They were in a local cafe and thankfully it was pretty quiet.

 

“Yep.” Roger took his time with this, taking a long sip of his coffee. “It’s about Freddie.”

 

Jim looked concerned now. “Is he okay?” Ah good, that was the correct response. 

 

“He’s fine.” Roger waved an airy hand, staring Jim down. The other Alpha, although still concerned was clearly getting uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Also good. “But we need to talk about him.”

 

“Okay…?”

 

“Right.” Roger set his cup down. He considered, for a moment, about how best to go about this. But in his usual Roger Taylor way, he got right to the point.

 

“What are your intentions with my son?”

 

“...Roger, he’s older than you.”

 

“Yeah, I just always wanted to say that.” They were both grinning, though Roger’s quickly vanished. “No, but really, what are your intentions? Because if you’re just hanging around for a quick fuck, Hutton, fists will fucking  _ fly. _ ”

 

Jim didn’t look too surprised. His next words made it clear he’d expected this; “John  _ did  _ ask if you’d threatened me yet.” He didn’t even look that uncomfortable truth be told. “I...I really care about him, Roger.” There it was; he was blushing faintly and smiling down into his tea, looking utterly smitten. Good.

 

Still, Roger decided to push it.

 

“Do you?”

 

“I do.” Never mind smitten, he looked downright  _ giddy.  _ “He’s unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.”

 

“You got it in one.”

 

“And I know he’s been hurt and I really,  _ really  _ don’t want to add onto it in any way. I just want him to be happy, you know? He’s...He’s amazing.”

 

Slowly, Roger nodded. Eyes narrowed, fingers tapping on the table. Jim looked at him cautiously, as though to say  _ “Do I pass?” _

 

Moments dragged by in utter silence. Neither Alpha broke eye contact.

 

Then Roger grinned. “Good enough. And he really seems head over heels for you so...Fine, you have my blessing or whatever.”

 

Jim grinned right back. “I appreciate it.” He looked as though he meant it. (Also good, because Roger’s approval/blessing just...didn’t really happen.)

 

“Hm...Oh and Jim? Just so you know…” Roger’s grin became feral, eyes glinting dangerously as he leaned in. “If you break his heart…”

 

“You’ll break my face?”

 

“Oh no, not at all.” If his grin was feral his laugh was outright evil. “I’ll break your  _ everything. _ ”

 

To Jim’s credit he  _ still  _ didn’t seem surprised. A little intimidated now, but not too frightened. At least the guy could hold his own.

 

“...I’ll be honest, I wholly expect you to rip my entrails out.”

 

“I’ll start with that.”


	2. Paul: Taking over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paul Prenter meets Queen- and gains a new obsession in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *banging pots and pans together* I hate Paul Prenter, I hate Paul Prenter, I HATE PAUL PRENTER.  
> Ugh, looking over this only reminded me why I cut him as a POV character, he's disgusting.
> 
> To those of you who cry "But the movie made him worse than he was!" I say to you "Do a quick Google search if you dare. It's pretty creepy stuff." Paul Prenter was a creep and an abusive, manipulative man who and I will never not hate him.
> 
> Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's move on.

**1973** **_  
_ ** **_“I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you. But who can decide what they dream? And dream I do...I believe in you. I’ll give up everything just to find you. I have to be with you, to live, to breathe. You’re taking over me.” -Taking Over Me,_ ** **Evanescence**

 

Paul hadn’t expected much from meeting  _ Queen.  _ He figured it’d be like every other time he accompanied Reid to meet wannabe rock stars; he’d stand there dutifully fetching Reid whatever he needed, the band members would spend the whole time bragging and everything they said would pass in through one ear and out the other, entirely inconsequential. 

 

He knew their lead singer was an Omega: the guy had caused quite the stir by refusing to take suppressants. Reid said he admired his guts but Paul thought it was an outright  _ stupid  _ move. Omegas were just there to look pretty and do what they were told, everyone knew that. A band that had an Omega as it’s lead singer couldn’t hope to go far. They’d be better off putting one of the Alphas as the lead singer and keeping the Omega in the background. It didn’t matter how good the guy was (though to be honest Paul hadn’t heard any of their recordings yet), he was still an  _ Omega. _

 

Then he actually met the band and...well. They were a surprise.

 

None of them  _ looked  _ like typical rock stars; they were all skinny and bright-eyed and frankly, the blonde was easily the best looking. He had expected another group of buff tattooed guys with insane hairstyles. So they were a surprise but still not  _ impressive.  _

 

Then the most  _ intoxicating  _ scent hit him.

 

Flowers. Flowers and spices: an odd combination but it  _ worked.  _

 

It was the Omega. Paul stared at him, really got a good look; an outfit that was clearly worn for shock value, but clung to him in all the right places. Long, thick black hair that curled at the ends, smooth olive skin and big eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. His overbite was painfully obvious (a bit of a turn off if he was honest) but he had full lips set in a permanent pout. He was the smallest one there and Paul had the sudden vivid image of grabbing the Omega by those lovely hips and pounding him into his mattress.

 

_ Christ,  _ but it had been a long time since someone was able to turn him on so quickly.

 

“...It’s Freddie right?” he asked, unable to tear his gaze away. The more he looked the more he liked what he saw.

 

Freddie looked vaguely intimidated. Good, maybe he was a proper Omega after all.

 

“R-right,” he stammered and Paul went to say- well, he wasn’t sure to be honest. Went to ask him out after this meeting maybe, but then Roger-fucking-Taylor reached out and grabbed Freddie’s hand. If looks could kill Paul would be six feet under.

 

Actually, make that sixteen feet under. For such a feminine looking bloke his glare was actually  _ scary.  _

 

“Oh!” Reid said, looking from Roger to Freddie and back again. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I didn’t realise…”

 

“Most don’t,” Roger said, tone as cold as ice. His furious eyes didn’t leave Paul’s face and Paul- to his own embarrassment- was the first to look away. He hadn’t realised Freddie was taken. He’d seen what jealous Alphas could do in defense of their partners; he himself had been in a fair few fights and he wasn’t exactly eager for a repeat performance.

 

Still, his eyes stayed on Freddie when the band left. Those jeans really did cling to him, providing Paul with a lovely view as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to think, I actually wrote more than one scene with him. I feel like a need a shower after writing him sometimes, I really do.
> 
> Let's all get together and rant about Paul.


	3. Freddie: You'll Be In My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Freddie receives some unexpected news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one...Got cut for two reasons.
> 
> One: It genuinely just upset me since I knew full well I was going to have Freddie miscarry. Given that context, looking over this just put me down and I worried it'd genuinely upset someone else down the line. It felt a little too mean somehow.
> 
> Two: From a writing standpoint I preferred to just jump to Roger's POV at Michael Deacon's Christening and have it be a surprise not only for the characters but for the reader as well. It seemed to fit better.
> 
> So here's the scene wherein Freddie first realises he's expecting.

**1978**

**_“‘Cause you’ll be in my heart. Yes, you’ll be in my heart from this day on, now and forever more. You’ll be in my heart no matter what they say. You’ll be here in my heart, always.” -You’ll Be In My Heart,_ ** **Phil Collins**

 

Here was the thing about not  _ planning  _ to get pregnant: when you start getting sick it’s not the first conclusion your mind jumps to. 

 

So when the sickness started Freddie didn’t immediately think “I must be pregnant!” Honestly, he just put it down to the funny tasting sushi he’d eaten the night before.

 

The second time he threw up in the morning he figured he must be coming down with something and popped down to the chemist on his way to the studio. The same went for the third time. And fourth and fifth. It may have taken a few weeks for the idea of pregnancy to pop to mind.

 

When  _ that  _ finally happened the sickness hit a little later in the day. He’d woken up feeling queasy but much better than the day before. He’d even managed to eat his entire breakfast before his stomach suddenly lurched and he ran for the bathroom, nearly tripping over poor Tom and Jerry in the process.

 

When his stomach finally settled he leaned against the wall, panting and still feeling (for lack of a better word) weird. He didn’t want to throw up anymore, but he still felt  _ funny.  _ For the life of him he couldn’t put his finger on it. He didn’t feel sick per say (though he certainly felt clammy and gross now), he actually felt better than he had in days,  _ weeks  _ even, but...still.  _ Something  _ felt off. On reflex more than anything his hand rested on his stomach. His eyes closed as he wondered about making a doctor’s appointment to get this sorted and then-

 

_ ‘Wait.’ _

 

It clicked.

 

_ ‘It couldn’t be...Could it?’ _

 

Both hands on his stomach now, Freddie’s eyes snapped open, peering down at it. It wasn’t like he expected a bump to form out of nowhere, or for a flashing neon arrow to appear and point at his stomach, flashing  _ “YOU’RE PREGNANT!”  _ on and off, but surely if he was pregnant he’d  _ know?  _ So many people he knew said they just  _ knew  _ even before they took a test. So he’d know. Right?

 

His immediate knee-jerk reaction was to tell his boys, to ask what they thought, but...But if he  _ was  _ pregnant he had no idea whose it was. What would they think of him then? But if he was pregnant he couldn’t hide it either. 

 

He’d missed his last heat, but that wasn’t too odd, that just happened to him sometimes. It didn’t mean anything, did it?

 

“Oh fuck this,” Freddie muttered, hauling himself to his feet. There was no sense in pussyfooting around it. If he was pregnant he had to know and if he wasn’t he had to figure out what was making him so sick in the mornings. And what had him so tired. And why his sense of smell seemed to have heightened, which only made him feel queasier…

 

_ Uh oh. _

 

He tried to convince himself it didn’t matter either way, but he had to admit- he was nervous. Really nervous. Part of him wanted to buy every test on the shelf just to make totally sure he wasn’t being crazy.

 

He bought three. False positives were a thing, right? He could have sworn Mary mentioned them, that her friend Gina had one.

 

_ (Freddie couldn’t imagine it, getting your hopes up like that, it was cruel.) _

 

_ (Years later he’d want to laugh at himself for being so naive.) _

 

It was one of the rare times that Freddie was glad he lived alone; he had all the privacy he wanted to pace up and down while he waited. He had the privacy to take the tests without having to hide it to begin with. Tom and Jerry’s eyes followed him; they were curled up on top of each other on his bed while he wore a hole in his bedroom carpet. 

 

He was being silly. He was jumping to conclusions. Right?

 

Wrong.

 

Three positives.

 

A weak “Oh. Huh…” was all he managed. He didn’t sit on the bed so much as he  _ fell  _ on it. Jerry gave an indignant hiss and all Freddie could do was stare down at his flat stomach in shock. If he was totally honest with himself he hadn’t expected a positive result. He really had expected three negatives.

 

He didn’t expect the sudden flare of excitement either. He was going to have a baby. _ Him,  _ Freddie Mercury.  _ Holy shit.  _

 

His hands were on his stomach and he couldn’t tear his eyes away; he half expected it to start kicking now. How far along was he anyway?

 

“Um...Hello? I don’t know if you can hear me yet, but...But I really am happy you’re here, okay, lovie? I promise. Sorry I didn’t believe you were here before. And a lot of people won’t be happy you’re in there…” Christ, his parents were going to  _ flip.  _ And the record company! “But I am.” He really was. Nervous as he was, excitement was building. He had absolutely no idea how he’d explain all this to his friends and family (oh boy, Roger was either going to be ecstatic or try and hunt down whoever knocked him up and kill them. Or both), but he had time to figure that out. Maybe he’d been over-dramatic earlier, his bandmates weren’t going to look down on him for this. He exhaled shakily and grinned, flopping onto his back, hands still on his stomach. “We’ve got a  _ lot  _ to sort out, darling.”

 

Problem One: He had no idea who the father was. 

 

Problem Two: That meant he was raising this kid alone.

 

Problem Three: He had no idea what he was doing. Cats he could handle, but babies? Oh dear.

 

Problem Four: How can you be a single parent and a rockstar? 

 

Problem Five: ...Damn it but he was going to miss champagne. And cigarettes. And sex. 

 

As soon as that last thought crossed his mind an almost hysterical bark of laughter escaped him and he clapped his hands over his mouth. Tom jumped off the bed in a temper, but Jerry scooted closer, nudging Freddie’s arm with his nose.

 

“Sorry, honey,” Freddie laughed, scratching the curious cat behind his ear. “I’m just being silly.” Sex got him into this mess and he was going to  _ miss  _ it? Well, yes. So sue him.

 

Problem Six: How the hell was he going to tell everyone? Was he meant to just shout it out and get it over with or casually drop it in the middle of conversation?

 

He’d cross that bridge when he came to it; for now he was content to lie there. He’d plan the rest later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Please don't kill me.
> 
> (Where can I join the Freddie Protection Squad?)


	4. Paul:El Tango de Roxanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paul gets his nose put out of joint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure I may as well just post all the deleted Paul scenes in one go and get the grossness over with.

**The BBC Studio, 1974** **  
** **_“His eyes upon your face. His hand upon your hand. His lips caress your skin. It’s more than I can stand.” -El Tango de Roxanne,_ ** **Moulin Rouge**

  
  


It slowly started to dawn on him that Roger was  _ lying.  _ He and Freddie weren’t together. There was just no way. He couldn’t smell Roger on Freddie at all; there were no marks on the Omega’s neck of any sort. They were clearly close, no denying that, but fucking? Dating? Not a chance. So he’d found ways to let Freddie know he was interested without pushing too hard; he’d find any excuse to stand or sit near him or to touch him, and he made a point to compliment his outfits or hair. Freddie could be wild or shy by turns and Paul wasn’t about to risk catching him in a shy mood and scaring him off before he could even do anything. He was willing to take it slow if he had to: he had a feeling Freddie would be worth it.

 

Hope bloomed for a while. Freddie was single. One of the most alluring Omegas he had ever come across was unclaimed. It was almost a crime that such a lovely little thing was single, but it worked in Paul’s favour. His eyes followed Freddie as he flitted about the studio, talking a mile a minute with that Beta girl, Mary. He was dressed in an outrageously fluffy coat, but his tight white pants left nothing to the imagination.

 

He had to be single. If Roger was really his Alpha then why would the blonde be on the other side of the room, not even looking at him? There wasn’t even a small show of possessiveness, nothing to let the Alphas in the room know to back off. So why  _ should  _ Paul back off?

 

Honestly, if Roger was going to bullshit him he should at least be convincing about it: so he couldn’t help but call Roger out when the blonde ball of fury asked to talk to him privately and warned him to back off. It was almost sweet that he wanted to look after his friend, but the deception was also quite stupid. If Freddie just gave Paul a chance he’d look after him. He was half-tempted to tell Roger so.

 

_ “It’s alright, you don’t have to worry, I’ll take good care of him.” _

 

_ Very  _ good care of him.

 

His plan had been to ask Freddie out the next day, when they all gathered at the recording studio. Paul had a routine, a routine that never failed; get the object of his desire in a quiet corner or room where they could be alone and flatter them: cozen them, make them feel like they were the most desirable person in the world (though he was starting to feel like Freddie  _ was  _ just that). The plan was to make them feel like they’d actually be doing  _ him  _ a favour by agreeing to a date, rather than the other way around. A small gift never went amiss. And Freddie clearly had a hopeless romantic streak a mile wide, surely he’d jump at the chance. His little routine and speech had never failed before.

 

Then Freddie came into the studio smelling of  _ Roger,  _ with a faint mark on his neck and Paul’s plans came crashing down around his ears.

 

He didn’t know what the look on his face was like, but Freddie glanced at him worriedly, having to actually stand on tiptoe to peer into Paul’s eyes.

 

“Are you quite alright, dear?”

 

“Just got a cold coming on,” Paul lied, unable to tear his eyes away from  _ that fucking mark.  _ That mark should have come from  _ him,  _ because damn it all Freddie was supposed to be  _ his.  _

 

Immediately, Roger was there. His eyes were ice cold and the smug smirk on his face made Paul want to bash his teeth in, made him want to yell “You little thief!”

 

The drummer grabbed Freddie’s arm and began to pull him away.

 

“C’mon Fred, show time.” 

 

Freddie smiled at Roger and allowed him to lead him away, towards Brian and John. Roger shot Paul a glare over his shoulder and Paul had to fight the urge to put Roger’s head through the nearest window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paul: *blinks*  
> Me: I'll fight you.


	5. Paul: Super Psycho Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paul's obsession grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ace ass: How does one write obsessive lust? How do? Is this creepy enough? Is it TOO creepy? I just...what???
> 
> Besides the decision to cut the POV characters down to just Rog and Fred, this initially got cut because it plain out felt too gross.

**New York, 1974**

**_“I love you and despise you. Back to the crowd and you ignore me, bedroom eyes to those before me. How am I supposed to handle? Lit the fuse and missed the candle. Damn, if you wanna let me go baby please just let me know. You’re not gonna get away with leading me on.” -Super Psycho Love,_ ** **Simon Curtis**

 

Well, he had to give Freddie this: he had balls. Not many Omegas would perform a show while in heat.

 

Madison Square was packed to the brim, utterly sold out and the crowd was wild, deafening even. Paul was stood at the side of the stage, hidden from the crowd with John Reid and Jim Beach, the band’s new lawyer. So far it was definitely one of Queen’s best shows, yet despite all the distractions, despite Reid occasionally providing commentary, Paul could only focus on Freddie. Even from where he was standing, Paul could smell him. 

 

And damn it all, it wasn’t  _ fair.  _ He hated that thousands  _ (thousands!)  _ of people were getting to ogle Freddie,  _ his  _ Freddie, during heat- let alone dressed like  _ that.  _ The Omega was wearing a black lace shirt, utterly sheer with a deep V-neck that nearly reached his belly-button. The sleeves were long and flowing, nearly covering his hands. To top it all off his leather pants were  _ clinging  _ to him. It was the most gorgeous Paul had ever seen him; hips swaying, hair flying and then the damn shirt started  _ falling off.  _ It slipped off his left shoulder entirely, baring half his chest in the process.

 

The crowd went  _ insane.  _ Paul was pretty sure he heard a girl scream  _ “Take it off!”  _ He simultaneously agreed with her and wanted to rip her head off.

 

Freddie was in constant movement, bending in ways Paul could never hope to accomplish. During one spin he momentarily fell to his knees, spinning back up with ease as he danced towards Brian. He was only down there for a second, but it was enough to send Paul’s mind reeling. 

 

_ Freddie on his knees before him, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed as Paul thrust into his mouth. _

 

_ Freddie on his hands and knees and begging for more as Paul gripped his hips and pounded into him. _

 

_ Freddie, Freddie, Freddie. _

 

He was lying down on the stage, spread out flat and singing into the mike, occasionally shooting the crowd a coy glance, but mostly staring up at the ceiling. He stretched languidly, almost like the cats he loved so much, and got to his feet as casually as if he was just getting up in the morning. His band-mates looked amused by his antics, but the crowd was  _ screaming.  _ Paul heard Reid give an amused huff. Jim Beach rolled his eyes with the fond exasperation of a parent. Paul on the other hand? His eyes followed Freddie religiously.

 

The Omega knew what he was doing, there was no possible way he didn’t know. Freddie threw a glance over his shoulder to the three of them watching in the wings and grinned.

 

That confirmed it, surely? He knew what he was doing. He knew how Paul felt, he had to, Paul hadn’t exactly hidden it.

 

Freddie knew. 

 

And that little slut was teasing him on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ace ass: ...I admit defeat. I physically cannot deal.
> 
> Have I mentioned that I hate Paul lately? No? Here's your daily reminder.


	6. Paul: Hellfire Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Paul goes too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got cut even before I decided on only two POV characters. I realised I genuinely felt more comfortable writing from Freddie's POV; the scene felt hard enough to get right without trying to capture Paul's erratic, obsessive way of thinking into the bargain. I actually ended up pretty happy with how this turned out, but once I made Roger and Freddie the only narrators it had to go.

**Ridge Farm, 1975** **  
** **_“It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame. It is the gypsy girl, the witch who set this flame. It’s not my fault if in God’s plan He made the Devil so much stronger than a man. Protect me, Maria, don’t let this siren cast her spell, don’t let her fire sear my flesh and bone. Destroy Esmeralda and let her taste the fires of Hell, or else let her be mine and mine alone.” -Hellfire,_ ** **The Hunchback of Notre Dame**

 

For a whole year, his suspicions that Roger was lying mounted again and now, here was the proof.

 

Freddie barely smelled like him anymore.

 

Paul had tried to keep his head down, if only to keep Roger off his back, because damn if he wasn’t infuriating- but that didn’t mean he stopped thinking about Freddie. If anything, thoughts of Freddie consumed his every waking moment. His scent, his eyes, his hands, his lips, his  _ legs.  _ That lovely voice and what that voice would sound like screaming Paul’s name.

 

But Paul wasn’t stupid; he bided his time and sure enough, his suspicions were proven correct. Roger and Freddie had lied- they weren’t together. He had suspected that mark on Freddie’s neck had just been to throw him off, though he hadn’t been reckless enough to ignore that it was there. So he’d waited. He’d waited and it had paid off. He was sure,  _ so _ sure that Freddie was single. He’d led Paul on on purpose, teasing him since they met, whoring it up on stage. Still, that at least proved Freddie understood that Omegas were there to spread their legs. Maybe he wasn’t so shy afterall. He couldn’t be if he acted like  _ that,  _ practically stripping in front of thousands of people on the regular. And surely if he  _ was  _ with Roger the blonde Alpha wouldn’t let him behave like that? Paul certainly wouldn’t. He’d make sure everyone knew Freddie was his if he could.

 

It came to a head at Ridge Farm.

 

He’d been utterly consumed with thoughts and dreams of Freddie ever since they met, his patience could only last so long. To see Freddie casually draped over Brian’s lap, or sleeping against Roger’s shoulder, or being picked up and spun around by John had him seeing red. Freddie was so open and affectionate with everyone bar him. Oh, he was perfectly polite, even friendly- but he kept a wary distance. 

 

They were in such close quarters, was it any wonder Paul’s patience snapped? 

 

He could admit he was pretty drunk when it happened. He was just so fed up. It seemed like everyone got Freddie but him when Freddie was meant to be  _ his  _ and his alone. He hadn’t planned it, truly. It just...happened. He had been drinking in the kitchen when he heard the piano from the dining room. Without thinking, he followed the noise.

 

Sure enough, it was Freddie playing. Dressed only in thin white pyjamas, engrossed in a song Paul didn’t recognise. Must have been a new one.

 

At the sight of him, Freddie stopped playing. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

 

He was alone. For once, Roger wasn’t lurking around. For once, Brian wasn’t there. For once, John wasn’t by Freddie’s side.

 

“No, don’t worry about it, I couldn’t sleep.” It was true at any rate. He couldn’t sleep and it wouldn’t make a difference; waking or sleeping his thoughts would still be consumed by the Omega sitting across from him. “Mind if I join you?” He sat without waiting for an answer.

 

“I...I suppose not.”

 

Freddie went back to playing. It really was a beautiful song; a melancholy tune, emotional; a break up song from the sounds of it.

 

When Freddie said he wrote it for Mary and that, of all things, it was called  _ Love Of My Life,  _ Paul’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  _ He fucking knew it. _

 

“I thought you were with Roger?”

 

“Well, yes. But Mary asked if I could write a love song, so...why not, right?”

 

Bullshit. It was such bullshit, all of it. Freddie wasn’t with Roger, he  _ couldn’t  _ be, he barely smelled like Roger anymore and he sure as fuck wasn’t with that boring little Beta girl.

 

He made his way to the piano, leaning over to put his cigarette out on the ashtray. Freddie shrank back from him and Paul couldn’t take his eyes from him. He was beautiful, he really was; his dark skin gleamed almost golden in the low light of the room, his eyes nearly looked black. The white of his pyjamas set off his skin perfectly. He looked up at Paul, shot him a rather uncertain smile and stood, backing away.

 

“I’d better get to-”

 

And Paul kissed him, pressing Freddie tight against his chest. It was better than he had ever dreamed of; Freddie was so small, so easy to hold onto. His scent filled Paul’s nose, overwhelming him. His lips were even softer than he’d imagined. But unlike his daydreams, Freddie didn’t melt into it. He held himself stiff and awkward before pulling away, hands on Paul’s chest to shove him back.

 

“Don’t,” he said firmly, fire in his dark eyes. “Don’t you…” He shook his head, glaring up at Paul. “I’m going to bed. Leave me alone.” He turned on his heels to leave, bare feet padding on the wooden floor.

 

Paul snapped.

 

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t  _ fair,  _ Freddie should be  _ his,  _ he should have been thankful Paul was paying attention to him, he should be grateful Paul wanted him and  _ this  _ was his reaction? A high and mighty attitude and walking away? No.  _ No.  _ Not if Paul had any say in it. Freddie was  _ his  _ and if Freddie wasn’t going to come to him then Paul would just  _ take  _ him. He couldn’t act like a whore on stage for thousands of people and then act like such a prude in private. He didn’t get to give Paul those come hither eyes and think he could just walk away. He didn’t get to tease Paul for two years straight and not expect consequences.

 

The next thing Paul knew, they were on the ground. He had Freddie pinned under him and despite the Omega’s struggles, Paul held on. He kissed Freddie roughly,  _ furiously,  _ pouring all his rage into it. He held Freddie by the wrists and used his knees to push the Omega’s legs open (like they  _ should  _ be). He’d waited two years for this, he  _ deserved  _ it and damn it all but Freddie deserved to be put in his place. 

 

Then Freddie screamed.

 

_ “ROGER! BRI, DEACY!” _

 

The sound of Roger’s name only infuriated him more and he slapped a hand over Freddie’s mouth, glaring down into those terrified eyes.

 

“Shut  _ up _ ! You don’t get to tease me on stage like that and not expect consequences, you Omega  _ whore. _ ”

 

Then Freddie’s small and surprisingly hard fist connected with his jaw, nearly knocking him off Freddie entirely. Before Freddie could scramble away, Paul grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head onto the floor.

 

Of course, that was when the rest of  _ Queen  _ burst in. He’d hoped they’d been too far away to hear Freddie scream but they’d heard- and Roger  _ pounced. _

 

He’d always known Roger was trouble, but he hadn’t been prepared for just how hard his fellow Alpha could hit and kick. He gave Paul no time to hit back, straddling him and punching his face in.

 

“YOU EVER LAY A HAND ON HIM AGAIN AND I’LL KILL YOU!”

 

_ “ROGER!”  _ Brian pulled the drummer away, though his foot connected with Paul’s ribs in the process. They were both glaring down at him and Paul pushed himself to his knees, spitting blood out of his mouth. His nose was bleeding, he was pretty sure he’d just chipped a tooth, his lip was burst open and his ribs were throbbing.  _ Fucking Roger. _

 

And goddamn  _ fucking  _ Freddie.

 

He was in John’s arms, staring at Paul with wide, horrified eyes, looking at him like he was the worst thing he’d ever seen.

 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking  _ fair  _ damn it. If Freddie had just acted the way Omegas were  _ supposed  _ to none of this would have happened. Two years of teasing and Freddie would get away scott free? Not a fucking chance.

 

“It’s...his own...fault,” Paul gasped. He wiped blood from his lip, glaring around at them all, glaring at Freddie. “Fuckin’...Acting like a whore on stage, he brought it on himself.” He stared Freddie down, practically snarling. “Omegas are meant to shut up and spread their legs when they’re told to,” he spat.

 

_ You’re a whore, Freddie Mercury. You’re a fucking, no good whore and that’s all you’ll ever be! _

 

Roger started screaming again and John clapped his hands over Freddie’s ears, but Paul could see the horror swimming in those brown eyes: his words had hit home like he’d intended.

 

Good.

 

If he couldn’t have Freddie, if he was damned to lose his job over this (though damn it all, why couldn’t they all see that the fault lay with  _ Freddie? _ ) he’d at least make sure he took Freddie down with him, one way or another.

 

He was right: he lost his job. But the look of fear in Freddie’s eyes almost made it worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So long Paul, I won't be missing you.


	7. Brian: The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian also makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is one of the few Brian scenes I managed to write. Our resident doctor is a surprisingly hard guy to pin down. However, despite the sad circumstances of this scene I was actually happy with how it played out. In the end, it was initially cut for time; I realised I didn't have to spell out the entire process of Freddie's miscarriage and aftermath, it just seemed to slow everything down and get a little TOO upsetting.
> 
> Either way, Brian is a good friend and even though he feels out of depth he's doing his damn best- and succeeding, whether he knows it or not.

**1978** **  
** **_“You’re better than this; you’re worth more than this and I believe if you go my heart would break. Just hold on one more day. ‘Cause you are so beautiful. I promise you this, I promise you this. And you are more than capable. Just believe in yourself when nobody else is listening.” -The Promise,_ ** **Emma Blackery**

 

Brian had never felt so helpless before.

 

Freddie drifted around the studio, a sad, pale little ghost. His singing was half-hearted at best. He’d clearly been crying, but it was more than that; he looked  _ ill.  _ Everyone was treating him like he was made of glass, Brian included.

 

He’d miscarried. Nearly a week later and he still wasn’t back to being himself, not even close. But who could blame him?

 

Brian was with Roger on this one; he felt like he’d fucked up somehow. (Though he’d never admit that out loud, how selfish would that be, given the circumstances?) He was an Alpha, it was in their very genetic coding to protect and provide but he hadn’t.  _ Queen  _ was family and he was meant to look after his family, but he couldn’t, not this time. There wasn’t anything he could do and he hated it. Freddie always tried to help whenever Brian’s depressive episodes came knocking, so why couldn’t Brian return the favour?

 

He felt so out of his depth. Words caught in his throat, he’d find himself turning to say something to  _ do  _ something- and then freezing entirely. He’d reach out his hand only to draw back.

 

Freddie tapped out a few half-hearted notes on the piano. Miami kept throwing him worried glances, looking at the rest of the band as though to say  _ “Do something!” _

 

But what could they do? Freddie barely even reacted to anything Roger said or did and that, truly, was saying something. When Deacy asked if he wanted lunch he shook his head, eyes still on the floor. It made Brian want to cry, but what right did he have? It made him want to rush over there and hug his friend senseless, to shake him until he was back to his old self. 

 

He stayed frozen, hovering, uncertain; terrified of making it worse.

 

Then Freddie mumbled something about the bathroom and slipped out of the room. Roger looked after him, utterly anguished. Deacy bit at his nails, face screwed up like he was hard pressed not to cry himself. 

 

“What do we do?” Deacy asked.

 

“I don’t know.” Roger’s voice cracked. He looked away from them, blinking furiously, biting his lip. For a moment he looked as defeated as Brian felt.

 

Somehow, that was what spurred Brian into motion. “Wait here,” he told them and went after Freddie. He hurried down the hall and could hear muffled sobs before he even opened the bathroom door door.

 

Sure enough, Freddie was gripping the edge of the sink with one hand, while the other was pressed over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut.

 

“Freddie?”

 

Freddie’s eyes snapped open, locking onto his and he made an effort to stop crying, his sobs coming out more choked.

 

“S-sorry, dear, I- I’ll be r-right back, I just…” He pressed his hands against his eyes. “Can you just...Go please?”

 

“Afraid not,” Brian said. Pushing his uncertainty aside he went to his friend, his hands on Freddie’s shoulders. “C’mon, Fred,  _ talk  _ to me. I know I’m not Roger, but I’m  _ here  _ for you. We all are.”

 

“I know.” Freddie’s voice cracked. “I just...I just…”

 

“Just what, Freddie?”

 

“I feel  _ awful. _ ”

 

Just like that he was crying again and Brian hugged him tightly, wishing he  _ was  _ Roger because he always seemed to know what to do to help Freddie- but this time he didn’t. None of them did, not really. They just had to try their best, come what may. One of the worst things possible had happened and they all felt utterly out of their depth, but that didn’t mean they could just ignore it. They had to try. _ Brian  _ had to try. Roger had once made a promise to himself, to look after Freddie, to protect the sole Omega in their odd little family. Surely Brian could make a similar promise to himself.

 

“Fred, have you...Have you talked to anyone? A professional I mean.”

 

Freddie shrugged, face against Brian’s chest. “No.”

 

“Maybe you should? I mean...It helped me.”

 

Freddie shrugged again. His breathing was evening out at last. Brian could only sigh, rubbing a hand up and down Freddie’s back.

 

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

 

Freddie’s breathing hitched again and for a moment Brian feared he’d said the wrong thing- but then Freddie relaxed in his arms and peered up at him.

 

“Thank you, Brimi. You know, for...For everything, really.”

 

“I haven’t done much,” Brian said. The admission left a bitter taste in his mouth, but Freddie huffed, almost sounding amused for the first time all week and pulled back.

 

Brian wanted to hug him again, he wanted to say “I love you,” he wanted to push for Freddie to talk to a professional, or even take another day off if he needed; he wanted to beg Freddie to talk to them properly, to let them in again.

 

He didn’t, he wasn’t quite there yet, wasn’t comfortable enough to push it entirely, but he smiled down at him and Freddie wiped at his eyes and made an admittedly valiant effort to smile back. It was weak and wobbly, but it was  _ there  _ and a vast improvement over his sobs.

 

“Shall we?” Brian asked, gesturing to the door.

 

Freddie hesitated. “Actually, darling, can we wait another minute?”

 

“Of course.” Brian leaned against the wall. “Take as long as you need.”

 

_ Take as long as you need to feel better; another minute, another hour, another day, another week, as long as you need. Take your time, just please let us be there for you. Don’t let this break you. We’ll be there all the way, Fred. _

 

_ I promise. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Freddie are just trying their best.
> 
> I love Brian, but I really do find him hard to write properly. He's just too smart for me.


	8. John: Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which John Deacon joins a band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The CEO of my job has finally come and gone, so I have some spare time now. All that fuss, all that stress, all that yelling...and he stayed for an hour. One (1) hour. Please kill me.
> 
> Anyway, here's our boy Deacy! I was never 100% happy with this scene, but here we go.

**1970** **  
** **_“When the sun goes down and the lights burn out then it’s time for you to shine brighter than a shooting star. So shine no matter where you are tonight.” -Shooting Star,_ ** **Owl City**

 

John hadn’t heard much about  _ Smile  _ beyond a few rumours one of his classmates, George, told him. George had auditioned as their bass player and promptly been rejected, so John took what he said with a grain of salt. George insisted the two Alphas of the band were sharing the Omega and that they rejected him solely because they didn’t want another Alpha.

 

Another classmate, Terry, asked if George had made a pass on the Omega. He had. Said Omega had laughed in his face. It rather explained the bitterness.

 

Honestly, John had heard George play and he just...well, he was average. Not to be rude about it, but there you go. Average skills in all honesty and a cocky attitude. He was hard enough to work with on group projects, John thought he might go crazy if he had to be in a band with him.

 

So despite George insisting the band consisted of cocky, territorial assholes, John went ahead to the audition anyway.

 

Honestly? He was instantly intimidated.

 

Brian May was over six-feet tall with badly straightened hair and a gaze that suggested he could read your mind. Everything he said made John feel stupid by comparison. He was practising when John walked in and it had to be some of the best guitar playing John had ever heard. He was suddenly sure that Brian at least  _ would  _ laugh in his face, because John was just...just  _ John,  _ just plain old John Deacon and he suddenly doubted his own skills next to this guitarist. How could he keep up?

 

Then there was Roger Taylor, lounging on the windowsill as he smoked. He was so gorgeous it was painful; not that tall, but quite muscular with golden blonde hair and big blue eyes. Just  _ looking  _ at him made John feel plain in comparison. If this was a band that went by looks they wouldn’t want him, surely? Next to Roger he was nothing. And if George by some miracle  _ hadn’t  _ been exaggerating, then Roger nearly punched his classmate in the face. If John wasn’t good enough would Roger start in on him?

 

And finally there was Freddie Bulsara, the singer if John remembered correctly and the Omega George had made a pass on. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, sketching. Thin gold bangles jangled up and down his arm as he drew. His eyes were generously outlined in kohl, his loose red shirt was surprisingly sheer. He wasn’t even  _ doing  _ anything really and yet he somehow demanded John’s attention. Even though he was just sitting there he managed to look impressive. And John? He could never manage that. No one’s eyes strayed to him, he was used to fading into the background. He had no stage presence, no commanding aura, nothing alluring about him,  _ what had he been thinking? _

 

He was just thinking that maybe he could make a break for it when Roger caught sight of him and smirked, quickly extinguishing his cigarette. “Well, well, well, what have we here?” the blonde Alpha drawled. Brian stopped playing to look at him and Freddie glanced up from his sketchbook.

 

John felt rooted to the spot, utterly overcome with nerves- and then Freddie smiled softly, setting his art aside and standing.

 

“It’s John Deacon, right?” he asked. He held his hand out and, shyly, John shook it.

 

“T-that’s me. I, um...I’m here to audition?”

 

“Are you asking me or telling me, darling?”

 

_ Darling?  _

 

John looked down into Freddie’s big brown eyes and, somehow, his nerves started to leave. “Telling you,” he said firmly. He heard Roger huff in amusement and Brian set his guitar aside with a grin.

 

“Let’s hear you then,” Brian said.

 

They still intimidated him, no denying, but as he played he saw their expressions change. They looked more like excited kids. Freddie’s small hands were clapped over his mouth, but his eyes were squinting with how hard he was grinning. Brian smiled calmly, but his eyes shone. Roger grinned openly, a look of total disbelief on his face.

 

John barely finished playing when Freddie blurted out, “When can you start practice?”

 

“Wait, I’m in?”

 

“Fuck yeah, you’re in!” Roger laughed.

 

They looked so  _ excited  _ and John truly couldn’t believe that  _ he  _ had done that. He knew he was good but was he really good enough to warrant such excitement?

 

Apparently so.

 

“I mean...I’m free Friday, so…”

 

“Brilliant!” Freddie jumped up and, before John could even blink, he scribbled an address on the back of John’s hand. “Here’s where we meet up and we typically get together around five, is that okay, dear?”

 

_ Just like that?  _ John wanted to ask.  _ You’re sure? You’re really sure? _

 

But no. No, he wouldn’t question this. With their excited gazes on him he suddenly felt taller than Brian, handsomer than Roger, more impressive than Freddie. Somehow, they made him feel  _ important.  _

 

So he grinned right back. 

 

“It’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Deacon is precious and must be protected. That is all.


	9. Mary: Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mary agrees to be a wingwoman and gets a first glimpse of her future best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have mixed feelings about real-Mary but movie-Mary is surprisingly fun to write. Not much to say about this one to be honest.

**1970** **  
** **_“My youth, my youth is yours, tripping on stars, sipping on waterfalls. My youth, my youth is yours. Run away now and forevermore. My youth, my youth is yours. A truth so loud you can’t ignore. My youth, my youth, my youth is yours.” -Youth,_ ** **Troye Sivan**

 

Mary Austin liked  _ Smile  _ well enough, but she hadn’t been utterly devastated by their hiatus the way her friend, Tracy, had been. Then again poor Tracy was head over heels for Roger, so the thought of not seeing him on stage every other weekend had been devastating.

 

She hadn’t planned on going to their latest show, but Tracy dragged their whole group along. She was insistent that this time she would talk to Roger, rather than stare at him from across the room and hope he spotted her.  _ This  _ time, she assured them all, she had a plan of action. She just needed some moral support. Which was fair enough. More than fair actually. Asking anyone out was nerve-wracking as it was, let alone a guy like Roger Taylor.

 

That was how Mary found herself in the student pub at Ealing, stuck in the middle of the crowd. When  _ Smile  _ came on stage there were some cheers and Tracy squealed next to Mary. Gina rolled her eyes fondly and Lauren  _ whooped  _ loudly at the sight of the band.

 

They had two new members; a new bassist and a new singer. The bassist was easily the youngest, a skinny young boy with an earnest smile and long, wavy brown hair. He ducked his head shyly when he saw the crowd, but there was confidence in how he handled the bass and amp.

 

The singer was...Well,  _ exotic  _ was the first word to pop to mind. He had warm olive skin and thick black hair; as he spoke to Roger he absentmindedly fiddled with his bangles. Brian turned to the other three and said something she couldn’t hear, but at his signal they all fell into place. Brian spoke into his mic; “Sorry for the long break guys, but as you can see we have some new faces. This is John Deacon and Freddie Bulsara, our new bassist and singer.”

 

Freddie had barely said, “Hello,” when a familiar voice shouted “What’s with the Omega Paki!?” shortly followed by a “Yeah, where’s Tim?”

 

She knew those voices; Larry and Arthur. Larry was Gina’s ex and she had dumped him for his racist and sexist bullshit; evidently he hadn’t learned his lesson. And Arthur? He just followed whatever Larry did. Mary could see Larry shooting Gina hopeful looks; her friend looked utterly disgusted. Poor Freddie looked stricken for a moment before his expression changed entirely. He looked angry. More than that, he looked  _ determined. _

 

She saw Roger poke Freddie in the back with his drumstick. Whatever the Alpha said had Freddie grinning and within seconds the band launched into  _ Keep Yourself Alive.  _

 

Her heart nearly broke for the singer when the microphone stand broke- but  _ again,  _ he looked determined. She’d have ran off the stage in tears if she was him, but he only looked at the broken stand with an almost curious frown on his face, before he smirked and just...just carried on like it was nothing. He held the broken stand in one hand and slapped a tambourine against his hip with the other, singing his heart out. She saw why he had looked so amused now; it was easier for him to move around if he only had to carry half a stand. He danced around with seemingly no pattern or rhythm, but somehow it  _ worked.  _

 

She’d never seen anyone like him before. She’d never seen anyone with so much stage presence before. Poor Tim Staffell couldn’t compare.

 

As the song ended the entire pub burst into claps and cheers. She could see the triumphant grin on Brian’s face. John was beaming, smiling in disbelief; he kept looking around like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Roger was laughing, head thrown back.

 

Freddie on the other hand marched right to the front of the stage; his eyes zeroed in on Larry and Arthur. “So, what was that about being an Omega Paki, darlings?” he asked. The crowd cheered louder; Larry ducked his head with a scowl. Arthur just looked bewildered.

 

Next to Mary, Lauren laughed. “That was  _ amazing! _ ” she cheered and Mary had to agree.

 

Tracy may have been there to talk to Roger, but as Mary danced along to the next song a plan of her own formed.

 

No matter what, she decided, she  _ had  _ to talk to Freddie Bulsara.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, not much to say beyond I hope you enjoyed ^_^


	10. Brian: I'll Be There For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Brian and Deacy find out what happened after their BBC appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, the BBC scenes were gonna be much longer. It was gonna be Roger's POV, followed by Paul's, followed by Brian's and THEN skip to Kashmira's introduction. A lot got cut for pacing and then cut because I wanted less POV characters. That said, here's what happened when Brian and Deacy found out that Roger marked Freddie.

 

**1974** **  
** **_“I’ll be there for you when the rain starts to pour. I’ll be there for you like I’ve been there before. I’ll be there for you, ‘cause you’re there for me too.” -I’ll Be There For You,_ ** **The Rembrandts**

 

In retrospect, drinking so much had been a mistake. Hangovers were sent by the Devil himself, Brian decided as he dragged himself out of bed. Out of  _ Roger’s  _ bed actually. When he looked at his own bed it clearly hadn’t been slept in. Rog probably fell asleep in the hall again.

 

When he stumbled into the living room the clock on the wall proclaimed it was just after eleven am. Deacy, sprawled on the sofa, was just starting to wake up. The poor guy gave the most pitiful of groans.

 

“Kill me, Bri,” he pled. “If you love me at all, kill me.”

 

“Only if you kill me,” Brian said. He stood there, massaging his temples and frowned at the offending light leaking in past the curtains. “Where’d Rog and Freddie go?”

 

“Either passed out in the bathroom or our room again.” Deacy rolled over and pressed his face into a cushion. “Wake me when I no longer feel like death.” Brian flicked him of the head as he walked past, back to the hallway and down to Freddie and Deacy’s room.

 

Sure enough, Roger and Freddie were curled up in Freddie’s bed. Roger was spooning Freddie, his face pressed into the Omega’s hair. Before Brian could decide between yelling “Wake up sleepyheads!” or throwing a pillow at them, the smell hit him. Or rather, the _ smells  _ hit him.

 

Roger and Freddie’s scents were mixed. They weren’t mixed in a way that suggested innocent cuddling all night. It was heavier than that and when Brian did a double take he could see a mark on Freddie’s neck.

 

Oh hell, they  _ didn’t.  _ Wait, no, they didn’t; they were fully dressed on top of the covers. But then what was going on?

 

He slapped them both repeatedly with a pillow to wake them up.

 

Roger nearly punched him. Freddie whined,  _ “No-oooo,”  _ and curled up in a smaller ball. He looked ready to cry. Roger looked outright murderous.

 

“Care to explain?” Brian demanded, pointing at Freddie’s neck. Roger frowned at him, bleary-eyed and swaying a little before his eyes widened and he reached back to slap Freddie. The Omega yelped and sat up, turning to hit Roger back.

 

“Why you damn-!”

 

“Fred, we’ve explaining to do,” Roger snapped and Freddie paused. His hand went to his neck, covering the mark.

 

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Right.”

 

Deacy shut up whining when he saw the mark, smelled the mixed scents, and quietly joined them at the kitchen table. Despite their hangovers they all felt wide awake now. 

 

Freddie kept biting his lip; he looked petrified until Deacy reached across the table to poke his nose. He blinked in surprise; the biting stopped. When Deacy offered a reassuring smile he managed to smile back, but ducked his head.

 

Roger explained. As usual he didn't beat around the bush.

 

“It’s to make Prenter back off,” he said.

 

“But he already thinks you’re dating,” Brian pointed out. He hadn’t been too sure about the plan at first, though he had to admit it had merit. Something about Paul’s sharp gaze gave him the shivers.

 

But Roger was shaking his head. “He doesn’t believe us, he told me so. Said he couldn’t smell me on Fred at all. So…”

 

“So you decided to make sure he would,” Brian finished.

 

Roger stared at him, defiant and headstrong. “I promised,” he reminded him, reminded them all.

 

“I mean...It’ll work,” Deacy said slowly. He tapped his fingers on the table as he spoke, head tilted curiously. “With the mixed scents  _ and  _ the mark he can’t prove anything anymore.”

 

“It’ll keep  _ any _ creeps away,” Roger said with a nod.

 

“He makes me nervous,” Freddie admitted. “But since he hasn’t  _ done  _ anything I can’t complain to Reid.”

 

Brian had to admit he had a point. They _ all  _ did. But still…

 

“It’ll also put off anyone you  _ want  _ to date, Fred,” he said as gently as he could. To his surprise, Freddie shrugged.

 

“I can handle it,” he said. His eyes silently pleaded with Brian to understand.

 

And he did.

 

He may not always understand the bond between those two, but he understood this at least. He knew Freddie was no pushover but there was something  _ chilling  _ about Paul. And Brian knew how society worked; most people still considered single Omegas to be fair game. There was a time where it was perfectly legal to force yourself on a single Omega in heat; the law once claimed that Alphas couldn’t be held responsible for their actions during an Omega’s heat. Some even tried to force Omegas to stay home during that time, forbidding them from leaving their homes at all.

 

Times had changed, but there were still people out there who thought that way. And Brian had heard some of the comments thrown Freddie’s way;  _ slut, easy lay, Omega bitch, whore, free game… _

 

If he lived to be a hundred he doubted he’d ever wholly understand Roger and Freddie’s bond, but he understood why Roger was so protective. 

 

They were his friends, his  _ family  _ and he loved them. They were there for him all the time, no questions asked.

 

So he wouldn’t ask questions now.

 

He relaxed in his seat with a smile and sipped his tea. “Fair enough,” he said and watched Freddie breathe a sigh of relief; watched Roger squeeze Freddie’s hand with a grin. Next to him, Deacy rolled his eyes in fond amusement.

 

“So,” Deacy said. “Plans for today?”

 

“I think I want to buy a new camera,” Roger said.

 

“What for?”

 

Roger’s grin was outright  _ evil.  _

 

“So I can capture the look on Prenter’s face when he sees us today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian loves his boys and just wants them all to be safe.
> 
> And there we have it; the last deleted scene. Everything else I saved is just a paragraph or two or a list of songs to use as I write, therefore this is the last deleted scene I'm gonna publish. However, I don't think I'm quite done with this universe yet. For something that started off as a challenge to myself, I'm having a lot of fun. So far I'm thinking of writing from Jim's POV? Let's see how mushy our favourite gardener can get.

**Author's Note:**

> Roger means well, he's just Angery. Jim knows he means well. Jim is also smitten.


End file.
